connect the dots, form a diagram
by Sorde
Summary: "She's still dwelling, though, so she growls, 'We could kill Tom.'" Andy/April


**A/N: **I know this sounds kind of absurd, and like a bit of an exaggeration, but I genuinely believe that April and Andy have one of the healthiest relationships shown on television. They have their misunderstandings and they individually have pretty gaping flaws, but they're always supportive of one another, and I really wanted to show that in a fic. Written mid-S5, but no spoilers for anything specific, really. It exists in a pseudo-AU, where Andy works at the police station.

* * *

"You're kinda my best friend," Andy says one bright afternoon, and they're sitting on the couch playing games and she's _thisclose_ to winning so she can't even look at him. When she doesn't say anything, he adds, "I mean, like, you're just into all the same awesome stuff as me, and I talk to you about everything. Except for stuff you hate, like the outdoors and barbecues and the radio and eggs and government and Jerry and sometimes Ann and-"

"Okay!"

There's a small silence while he tries to figure things out, and she (virtually) shoots him in the back even though they're on the same team. After a beat - he's starting to get when she's annoyed at him - he adds, "But even though you hate football, you sometimes watch that with me, so. Almost everything."

"Only because I had to see whose stupid jersey I bought you." Her voice softens a little bit, and she gives him time to regenerate before shooting anything else. "Why do you care who your best friend is, anyway?"

They're sitting shoulder-to-shoulder (well, shoulder-to-forearm), so she can feel it when he shrugs. "I dunno. Tom was talking about Jean-Ralphio and he kept telling me he wasn't gay and I asked him why he was sure and he said that I didn't understand best friends because I'm kinda dumb." Andy laughs disbelievingly at the end, shaking his head in that aw-shucks way of his, but they've been married like three years and April can tell he's a little upset. She stops playing for a second so she can glare at the wall next to the TV, and bumps Andy's arm playfully.

"Tom's dumb," she says, and it's supposed to come across as bored but it comes out a lot angrier than she intended.

Andy just laughs again and shoots something on screen. "The guys used to be my best friends, but," he shrugs again, "You are now, I guess. You _are_ the most awesome person I've ever met."

She's still dwelling, though, so she growls, "We could kill Tom."

His laugh is actually sincere this time, and he shakes his head, glancing at the cameramen before adding, "She's just kidding."

"No."

/

When Tom walks in to the office the next morning, there is a meticulously-cut-up Armani suit on his desk.

April can hear his cries from her desk.

/

She kind of forgets their fourth anniversary, mostly because Andy's super obvious and she was pretty sure that he'd forgotten because there had been no glaring signals that he was planning anything. But, lo and behold, she comes home from work to find him in his Colts jersey.

He's even taken the time to tuck it into the pants that, okay, have scuff marks on the knees from his day. But she can't really say anything.

"Ben told me about this great restaurant that serves escartoad and other stuff and he says that it's the best place in the whole world for romantic places." His face is open and earnest and he looks so proud of himself that she doesn't bother to correct him. "I figured for our fourth anniversary you deserve to be treated like a queen."

"Okay," April says, and even though she tries not to smile because the cameras are _right there_, she gives him a small one while she goes to change into a dress.

/

He seems to be under the impression that multiple forks were put next to his plate to be used _at the same time_, but she just smiles at him and tries to chew through the escargot because, okay, this is all pretty sweet even though, damn it, she doesn't have an anniversary present for him and escargot is disgusting.

"How was work? Or-" he raises his eyebrows thoughtfully, "-your _occupation_, as they say in... Other places."

Something's up. She placates him anyway, says, "Lame. I had to hang up the phone like a dozen times."

"That sounds..." He clears his throat. "_Challenging._"

The silence goes on for a second or two before she asks, "Hey, what's with the jersey?" Because, frankly, his Pawnee Police Department uniform is actually kinda nice and they have a ton of events so he can't say that the jersey is his "nice clothes" anymore.

Andy grins at that, looks down at his shirt proudly. "This is when I fell in love with you."

Beat. "When I bought you something."

"... No..." He grapples for a moment, tries to come up with something other than _yes_, before she finally just gives up.

"I thought it was the whole lame photoshoot picnic thing with the old dudes, or whatever." One of the pictures from that day is the background of her computer, and Andy looks delighted every time he sees it. (She smiles every time she opens her computer, too, but whatever.)

"That was when I _knew_!" he says earnestly. There's a silence while he rubs his hands on his khakis nervously, before he finally just adds, "I know I'm not, like, super smart, and that you could be with anyone in the galaxy you wanted because you're just the most awesome person ever. But I'm really glad you agreed to marry me."

April hides her blush by saying, "Tom's a jerk. You _are_ really smart. Just in a... different way."

For the first time ever, though, he looks like he doesn't believe her. He just shrugs, and kind of half-throws a box at her.

It's small. And square. She looks down at it for a second before her eyes cut to his. "Andy. We're already married."

"But you deserve to be treated like a queen!" he protests, and she opens it up to find a ring that's still small and simple and silver but that doesn't look like something he pulled off a spiral notebook. And before she puts it on, his voice is loud and clear and confident and back to normal when he says, "I love you."

"Awesomesauce," she says wryly, and slips the new ring on.

/

The whole problem starts cropping up a lot, though, and April _really _doesn't like it when things prevent her from sleeping.

Andy starts to use and misuse substantial words more and more often until he doesn't sound like himself anymore. He visits her at work every once in a while, and sometimes tries to give big ideas and everyone just stares at him like they always do, but he starts to blush and apologize and he sometimes comes home and doesn't talk for hours, just kisses her temple when she asks him if he's okay and slides off to bed early.

This happens one night in August, and he pokes at his mac and cheese, one of his three specialties, and stares at his plate. She doesn't blame him - this is the worst batch of mac and cheese he's made the entirety of their marriage - but his face is kind of pale and his shoulders are sagging and, okay, April doesn't like a lot of things, but one thing she _loves_ is how happy and open her husband is and the one thing that tops her list of least favourites is anything that upsets him.

"You're my best friend, too," she pipes up, even though, okay, she doesn't think it needs to be said because, _obviously_, and because it's been like six months, so who cares? But he only gives her a big smile before his face sort of crumples and he goes back to poking at the nasty mac-and-cheese conglomerate on his plate. She's patient for exactly seven seconds before she adds, "Hey, are you okay?"

"You could divorce me, if you wanted to. I won't even have hurt feelings, or anything," he bursts out.

Okay, April's not often surprised, but- "_WHAT?_"

"I, just, you're like the smartest person in the world and even though marrying you was the best thing _ever_, I know I'm not super smart and that I'm kind of..." He snaps his fingers, trying to find the words, "'Holding you back' is what one of the guys from work said."

"_Who?_" she growls, because, seriously, she doesn't cry, either, but this meal is apparently a whole spectrum of new experiences because her eyes are kind of watering.

Andy looks kind of uncomfortable. "Just someone... But I don't want that. You could do _anything_."

"So could you!" she says indignantly. "Andy, you're not, like, _book smart_, but books are lame, so who cares? TV is better anyway."

"Yeah, but-"

This is too much. She rolls her eyes, leaning across the table to put a hand on either side of his face. It's a little rougher than she intends. "Andy. I love you, okay? I think it's sexy when you mix up words, and you try really hard, _way_ harder than I've ever tried at anything, and I just want to hang out with you forever."

"Yeah, but-"

"_Got it?_"

His eyebrows screw together. "Are you crying?"

She immediately retracts herself back onto her side of the table. "Shut up!"

"Okay." He's back to smiling, digging heartily into his disgusting mac and cheese. And when he finishes, he even eats whatever she couldn't get down her throat, so she doesn't have to tell him that it tasted like glue. Which is great, because she's pretty sure even she couldn't have done that today.

/

He shows up to her work one evening, a cup of coffee for her in hand.

"Oh my god, you just saved my life. I thought I was going to die of boredom."

"Here to help!" he says happily. "What's going on?"

"Jerry shredded a really important form and Leslie's freaking out."

"Cool."

From the other side of the room, Jerry pipes up with, "I'm telling you, _I_ didn't shred anything."

"Why don't you guys just, you know, take the pieces and tape 'em all together? It's what I did when Champion chewed up and threw up all my socks. Duct tape is the best."

Five pairs of eyes stared at Andy for a full minute before Ron finally opened his mouth. "Son-"

"-That's the worst idea _ever_," Tom finishes.

And April doesn't forgive _or_ forget, even though revenge had already been executed, and Tom had long since been reduced from "only cool person in this office" status to "mortal enemy," she adds, "Shut up, it's the only option we have."

It's a terrible, awful idea, of course, but nobody needs anyone who goes around telling them that all their ideas suck and sometimes Andy's ideas pan out way better than anyone expected and April really does believe that he can do whatever he wants to do, so yeah, she'll support him. The whole office takes a second to acknowledge that, yes, that _is _the only idea that anyone's throwing out and Andy sticks his hand up rod-rim straight in his universal sign for a high-five, which she gladly reciprocates.

He's not a genius, or anything, but he's really happy and she just loves him a lot more than she thinks anyone but Andy believes her capable of.


End file.
